


The Dawn Will Come

by pragmaticArtificer, TheMadClicker



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Multi, Multiple Inquisitors, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 01:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13353651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pragmaticArtificer/pseuds/pragmaticArtificer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadClicker/pseuds/TheMadClicker
Summary: Five inquisitors crawled their way out of Haven only for one to fall ill. As the cold bites at their bodies and souls, they must find warmth to last the night.





	The Dawn Will Come

**Author's Note:**

> Vesta, Melanie, and Lionel all belong to me. Dawn and Saya belong to Pragmaticartificer. Enjoy!!!

Haven had fallen, the inquisition forced to evacuate, and the group of friends forced together by reason and duty had gotten trapped under the snow after facing down an ancient Tevinter magister. 

Melanie and Vesta both had led the others through the snowstorm to camp, but it had taken its toll upon their bodies. The tips of Vesta’s ears and fingers were still blue, the elf shivering away, wrapped up in a blanket in Iron Bull’s arms. She had been the one who saw the lights of camp, shrieking over the howling wind, pulling the rest of the group along with her. 

Vesta glanced over at the cot where Melanie still slept. The healers fussed over the human, yelling and demanding things that they hoped would help her awaken, much to the dismay of Lionel. He had already shoved a few people away from his sister, telling them he would take over her care, only assisted occasionally by Mother Gisele. She was the first to fall. The short woman had instructed them to hold hands, so they didn't get lost from each other in the storm, and she and Vesta took point. The two women slowly led the group through the mountain passes and over hills only for Melanie to fall right as their companions found them. She was so small, the first hunter wondered, how had she made it so far in the first place. Dawn’s warming charms had worn off well before they had even gotten close to camp. Vesta also wondered if anyone else had heard Melanie weakly call out for Cullen as she fell into the snow. For now, all they could do was wait and see if the Creators delivered Melanie back to them. For Lionel’s sake, Vesta prayed they would. 

Dawn sat in front of the fire, gazing at the flames as if a message could be deciphered from the dancing wisps, a blanket over her shoulders. Mage robes were not designed for an avalanche, not at all. Fen'harel take whoever created the light mage robes. The small elf glanced around camp, gazing in wonder at just how many were saved. It had been no small effort but it had also not been a small attack. Their home was destroyed. Dawn's home had been destroyed, again, but she had been able to make a difference this time. She had been able to help this time. Not that it showed right now. Right now all people could do was argue or weep. Neither would help them rebuild or save lives. The mage sighed and looked down at her hand where the anchor lay. If only they had gotten here sooner. 

Lionel sat at his sister's bedside, clutching her hand in both of his, forehead pressed to their joined hands. The one time, the one Maker damned time, he didn't send her off with a note for her to return because he was going with her. Now he wasn't sure if she would make it. Melly was always so small, short and thin with a natural grace when she wasn't tripping over stone, the cold had seeped straight to her bones. Dawn’s warming charm had lasted long enough for them to get back halfway and since Lionel, Dawn, and Saya weren't anywhere near the front of the group, the chill of the wind did not seep into them as quickly as it did to Vesta and Melly. The librarian sniffled, fighting back angry tears. She had tried so hard to get them home, wherever that was now, surely the price for that wasn't her own life. Was it? 

Saya lay in another cot, her horns still covered in a thick layer of ice, watching Lionel closely. The poor boy hadn't left his sister’s side. He told the healers to fuck off, which she admired greatly, but had also taken on the burden of caring for Melanie alone. Surely that wasn't the way to go about this. Sitting up with barely a noise, Saya wondered if Lionel had anyone else. It was clear the siblings were close but did they have any family, any friends, anyone outside of their cloistered life. Saya paused, blinking several times, as realization passed through her. Of course. Any friends or teachers they might have had would have died at the Conclave. Melanie had been sent there, and Lionel followed her after Haven had been established, how many did they lose? Sighing, the first audible noise in the healing tent since Lionel had sent everyone away, Saya rose from her cot. She shuffled over to where Lionel was hunched by his sister and placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling him jump from the contact, tensing up but both of them relaxed after a moment. A silent reminder that they weren't alone any longer. 

Finally, in the silence of the camp, Melanie groaned and her hand tightened around Lionel’s. A sign of life in this valley of death. A sign that somehow, someway, they would be okay.


End file.
